


A Memory of Decay and Destruction

by Masdevallia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sharing a Room, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masdevallia/pseuds/Masdevallia
Summary: Hubert wanders off in search of a flower that may help the Empire but finds something much more fascinating. Fairy-tale AU/Beauty & the Beast.Hubernie Week Day 1: Stitches
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54
Collections: Hubernie Week





	A Memory of Decay and Destruction

“ _Once upon a time, there was a family who lived in the mountains. They were a wealthy family known for carrying out the religious order in their country. One year, disaster struck and there was a plague that ravaged the lands. There was but a cure but it came in the form of a rare flower that was located within their gardens and was prized by all. One day, an enchantress disguised as an old woman had come to their lands asking if she could take the flower and develop a cure for the plague. The Count who owned the lands denied her entry. She had come again. He denied her a second time. The third time she had arrived, he spurned her and having grown tired, she revealed her true form. It was too late now. It is said that with her having seen the Count’s true nature, she used his lifeblood and turned him into the flower, although here’s where the legends differ as what exactly happened to the Count was unknown, but through the enchantress’s actions, a cure to the plague had been widely distributed across the land. However, all accounts say that the Count was never seen again_.”

—Fódlan Legend

  
  


“ _There are rumors, however, that the count had a daughter, who guards the flower. A daughter that was spared by the enchantress, but given to a horrible fate. Some say she lurks in the halls of a long-abandoned mansion where vines are steadily enveloping the walls. Some say it is not his daughter, but rather a monster. No one knows, for there has been no one brave enough to venture forth into the unknown and to find if the rumors are true._ ”

—Addendum as added in a postscript

* * *

Hubert von Vestra scoffed at the book he was reading. This was not unlike those ridiculous stories he’d hear in regards to those imbecilic knights in Faerghus about chivalry and heroes. “Utterly ridiculous. Reprehensible, even. And in a lauded book written by one of Fódlan’s most celebrated authors in the field of Reason,” he said, murmuring to himself.

He knew that there were always asides about stories involving reagents for spells, but this one had to take the cake for the most laughable. And so, Hubert began to laugh at the absurdity of it all, scaring all of the other visitors of the library, including a girl who was not-so-discreetly watching him in the corner. Hubert didn’t want her, or anyone, really, to pick up silly notions or flights of fancy with him.

His laugh took form and only grew and grew as those nearest to him packed up their books and left the vicinity (except for one person in particular who slept through it all). It wasn’t until his closest ally and companion, Emperor Edelgard von Hreslvelg took a seat next to him. She eyed the people who watched him as they scattered away.

“What’s so funny?”

“I found the book I was seeking. But the story surrounding it is written with trite frivolities.” He motioned for her to skim the passage.

“But you said you needed the flower, didn’t you?”

“It’s said to be a cure-all, but as you know, many so-called ‘miracle plants' often have a dark side. A side one could easily describe as malignant. Would you imagine if I were to study the plant, extract its properties, and find out what more can be done? Now what if the plant itself had similar reagents as to what was in the plague to begin with?” In general, ivies were considered benign, but there were forms that were poisonous. This one did not seem to bear any poison, but it was too rare to be well-studied.

“With you, it would be in the wrong hands,” she said.

Hubert smiled. “Why yes, and it would be, but we would be destroying our enemies and we could very much use all of the help we can get.”

Those Who Slithered in the Dark had every advantage against them. They had the numbers, the magic, the technological prowess, which Hubert couldn’t even begin to fathom. Except perhaps the best way was to go biological. Perhaps maybe then, Hubert and Edelgard could work something out and become legitimate threats in the fight against them. 

“Or, alternatively, this flower could contain what we need for crest removal.”

Edelgard didn’t react. Of course, Hubert was used to that. There were countless ideas offered in terms of crest removal, but none of them had worked. He had monitored all of the ideas presented to him. It was his job as the Minister of the Imperial Household, but he kept an open mind as to all of the potentials. It wasn’t an opportunity he would simply waste.

“Either way, it would prove a fascinating study,” Edelgard said. 

Hubert closed the book. “Yes, and all frivolities aside, thanks to this book, I now know exactly where this flower is endemic to and where I need to go to find it.”

“Just watch out for any monsters that come your way.”

***

Hubert’s only clue was about a mansion in the mountains so he had traveled to a town within the vicinity. Hubert didn’t like small towns. As if he didn’t feel like an outsider enough already, with people in the capital always watching him, either intrigued or suspicious of him (and rightly so), the feeling was much worse in small towns and villages.

He was tall and looming and his all-black garb made him look like a ghastly specter. 

It was a sight that made most people cower in fear of him. Especially in regards to his sharply angled face, which didn’t make him seem any friendlier. Of course, there were fools who thought he was brooding or something to be tamed. They were the worse ones, in Hubert’s opinion. 

“You seem pretty deep into that book,” the innkeeper said to him while he enjoyed a steaming cup of coffee that came with his complimentary breakfast.

“Yes,” Hubert said, moving his head up to meet his eyes. He did not cower. In fact, he kept his friendly demeanor. Hubert would have thought it impressive were it not his profession that made him see many different kinds of people. He had likely seen worse than Hubert. “Tell me, how long have you lived in this town?”

“My entire life. In fact, this inn belonged to my father and his father before him.”

“I see.” Hubert set down his coffee and placed his hand on his chin. “I am in search of a flower that’s known to grow only in this area. This book is assisting me, but I’m afraid I’ll need more information so I can locate the precise location of this flower.”

The innkeeper’s smile waned when Hubert showed him the illustration of it. “Nothing good comes from that flower. I’d suggest you’d turn away.”

Hubert watched him calmly. _Now_ he was starting to react to him the way people usually did. “And why is that?”

“Unless you have a death wish. Most people who look for that flower don’t come back alive.”

“I am not most people. If death were to welcome me...,” Hubert said, chuckling. _Death would most certainly fear me._ Besides, he was able to perfectly defend himself just fine with his dark magic. Hubert turned back to the book again. “This book posits a rather curious story surrounding the flower.” _And by curious, I mean simply idiotic._ “Is that common knowledge here?”

“You mean the story of _The_ _Count and the Enchantress_? That’s no story. That really happened. The problem is the accounts differ.”

“And what would you have to say about it?”

The innkeeper shook his head. “Good riddance to the man. All of my income was divvied up into taxes that benefitted only him. The man was our liege but the man was awful. Treated us like we were his servants. The lady who did him in did us all a favor in that sense. But no one knows where his estate is anymore. They say it was swallowed by magic.”

“Fascinating,” Hubert said absently. He really didn’t find it as fascinating as he probably should have. His objective was to only get the flower and come home to research and study it alongside Fódlan’s greatest minds. He wasn’t in the mood for some story, even if it were true. “Would you happen to have an idea as to where its location could be?”

The innkeeper frowned. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, but I hope you’re able to find what you’re looking for. Are you ready?”

“I am,” Hubert said. _I am always at the ready._

***

He was prepared for traveling, but he was not prepared for the constant shortness of breath that came from traveling at such a high altitude, not to mention the constant flora getting in his way. At one point, Hubert had accidentally stepped in mud that was deep enough to be a small lake. His height came to his advantage, only stepping in knee-deep, although he couldn’t say the same for his poor boots. 

It was as the hours started to pass when Hubert came to understand why no one ever came back. It was cold, it was damp, it was hard to breathe, and the conditions here were extremely unsuitable for habitation. 

Could this all be the work of an enchantress?

Hubert knew he could turn back, but as the daylight weakened, he knew he was in trouble, or at least the fact that it was imminent. So far, he hadn’t been attacked by monsters or met by the fog that often accompanied them, so he was in the clear. 

For now, at least. 

He first and foremost needed to find shelter. 

Hubert found a trail, or at least the makings of all. It looked vaguely human so he followed it. 

At the end of the trail, much to Hubert’s dismay, were the human remains of someone who died a long time ago, their corpse nothing but a skeleton. It was right then when a fog followed by an unnatural, beastly scream permeated through the dusk sky. Hubert readied his dark magic as the fog enveloped him. 

He wasn’t going to die here in a foolhardy attempt to solve his problems. There wasn’t a chance in hell. 

Hubert staggered in the fog as he readied himself for any enemies in his wake. He was ready. As Lady Edelgard’s vassal, his job was to always be ready. 

The fog, while it remained, began to dissipate and shimmer away. 

He was met by large black gates with spikes at the top, as if telling him to go away. Hubert cast a spell on the locks, causing them to fall to the ground with a heavy thud. 

A manor manifested through the fog once he passed through the gates. Except the manor was almost completely covered in vines. Just as the story foretold.

With a heavy breath, likely from the high altitude, he proceeded with caution. 

* * *

“Why me?” was Bernadetta von Varley’s catchphrase, and she was saying it now that she pricked her finger again while stitching. She would have drawn blood by how deep she had poked herself, but instead, she only poked a painful hole in what would have been her finger. All she needed to do now was go outside and have the sunlight repair it (or moonlight, Bernadetta often lost track of time, anyway). 

It was always a hassle to leave her room, though. 

Bernadetta left her room without another thought, wanting to get this over with. She didn’t realize she was still holding the needle but it was too late to back down now. She didn’t want to waste any more time. 

A noise coming from the entrance made Bernadetta stop in her tracks. 

“Wh-what was that?” she whispered into the darkness. 

She tried to calm herself. It could be a rat. 

Yes, maybe a rat had stumbled here, a big rat with massive ears and teeth and it would fall into her trap and be eaten by one of her nepenthes laying about. It would be fine... 

Everything would be fine, right?

“What’s this?” a voice echoed from downstairs. A deep, masculine voice that _most definitely_ wasn’t a rat. 

“Eep,” Bernadetta scurried to the edge of the hallway and peeked at the invader through the balustrades. _Didn’t the gates tell you to keep out?!_

Bernadetta tried to get a clear look at him, but he was too dark to see. A dark head of hair, dark clothes...The only way to see him would be to get closer. But from what she saw, he was leaning in front of something. 

“Some kind of plant?”

_Oh no he’s touching Tatiana! Get away from her! Only Zeke can touch her!_

Bernadetta never felt so riled up...Not in years, anyway. _I’ve got to get rid of him. He needs to get out of here and leave me alone!_

She was scared yes, because she didn’t know what this person’s business was here or whether he was here by accident, but he was an unwanted guest and needed to leave. 

Now. 

She had no choice but to scare him off.

* * *

Hubert was met by a rotting entrance. Vines had also climbed over to the windows here as well and plants reclaimed the walls. Moss grew on the ground besides the crumbled roof fragments. When Hubert gazed at the ceiling, he saw that it, too, had been obscured by plants. It was as if this residence was being decomposed. 

It was utterly fascinating. 

Hubert wasn’t the sort of person who could viably say he could find the beauty in things, but this struck a chord with him.

“What’s this? Some kind of plant?” There was a plant in particular that stood out near the entryway’s stairs. It was oddly colored, red and green, to be precise, and looked like a trumpet or perhaps a bell. He had never seen a plant like that before. He bent down, running his fingers through the plant. He peeked inside the plant’s curious opening and saw a half eaten beetle inside of it.

It was absolutely unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Hubert wanted to see more. A noise from above him interrupted his thoughts. A large, unlit chandelier vibrated above him. Seconds later, it swung from side to side as if a strong wind were possessing it. It looked as though it would drop from what remained of the ceiling but instead it swayed above him.

There wasn’t any kind of wind here at the ground floor, but there must have been an opening upstairs for such a wind to take over. Hubert could have gone upstairs to check, but it was better to get what he came for.

Hubert carefully tiptoed around the abandoned entrance. He didn’t want to sustain any injuries from the crumbled architecture, but upon looking at it, he couldn’t help but think it was beautiful to look at. 

As he made it way through what used to be a living area, Hubert contemplated what his next move would be. First and foremost, he would need to locate the plant he was looking for and then find an appropriate place to sleep. He was resigned to having to sleep on the ground tonight, but the problem would be picking a spot that didn’t look like the ground under him would cave in or if something from above, such as a swinging chandelier, would strike from above. 

And then he would take his leave and all of this would be over. 

Hubert walked through what was an abandoned dining hall. All of the chairs were rotted to the point of being swallowed entirely. Vines slid through the walls. 

And yet, another odd plant caught his eye. This one had the appearance of a tentacle with something that looked quite like beads. It looked as though it were dewy, almost. Hubert walked towards it and lifted his gloved hand to touch it. He wanted to check for moisture, but also out of sheer curiosity to see how the plant would respond. Would this tentacle attack him? Would it recoil? Would it do nothing?

The noise of a chair rattling took him out of his reverie. 

There was no way that he was alone, then, if a chair was rattling like this. Hubert snapped his fingers, a small ball of fire illuminating the room. “If someone is here, then please know I bear no harm. For now, anyway.”

He bent down, watching whatever force could have caused the chair to rattle. And there it was, on the floor, a mouse, scurrying away from him in terror. Positioned near where the mouse was a needle and a spindle of thread. Hubert grabbed it, without giving it too much thought. It would make for an interesting memento of this place.

By the time Hubert reached the backyard, the sun had since set, and although Hubert could not see the moon rising over fog and dense clouds, what he could see was a greenhouse. Some of the window panes were broken, with vines replacing it.

Despite that, there were rows of flowers, many in full bloom. Some were flowers he had been able to recognize. Lilies, violets, chrysanthemums, and of course, Edelgard’s favorite, the carnation. And there were many others he had failed to recognize, like the plants he had seen before. None of these were the exact flower he was seeking and no flowers were growing on any of the vines. _Where is it?_

And if some of these flowers were in full bloom, then that meant they had a caretaker. 

One of the glass panes from the wall had shattered. With his eyes darting to and fro, Hubert readied his Miasma spell. He had an inkling he was being watched, but now he was certain of it, thanks to the well-tended flowers. 

“Show yourself,” he said. 

“G-go away,” a voice said, in an attempt to sound commanding. It was distinctly feminine. He searched for the owner of that voice, but could not find it. She must have been too fast for his eyes to follow. 

“Oh? Are you the being of legends? Or perhaps a squatter? It doesn’t matter. I will not leave. Not until I find what I am looking for,” he said.

“Then I will _make_ you leave.”

Hubert didn’t mind a good fight, but it was to his own benefit if this half functioning greenhouse were still intact. He bolted from the place he was standing in as more glass panes began to shatter from the panes around him, and not above him.

From what he could see, they were vines, stretching out and breaking them through sheer force. _How is that possible? Could someone have an ability to command some kind of earthly magic?_

A vine that formed right in front of him had made him pause for a second as another window shattered. 

“Oh no. Watch out!” 

But it was too late. 

The last thing Hubert could remember was the feeling of serrated glass slicing through skin, and the hot flash of pain and his flesh being torn open. 

* * *

“Why me?! Why me?!” Bernadetta said moments after the man had fallen to the ground. 

A trickle of blood was beginning to form around him from where he had just been cut. She needed to act fast if he were to survive this. 

“I’m so sorry! I only wanted to scare you!” The man said nothing, his eyes completely shut. He made no indication of being conscious. The drops of blood began to stain the floor below him. “What do I do?”

She was met with a faint whisper by the flowers, but they were mostly useless whispers, telling her that they were fine and healthy and didn’t need to be watered. _That’s not my concern right now! I have a bleeding man on my floor!_

“I’m sorry I have to do this!” She lifted the man by the chest (it was admittedly tempting to lift one of his long legs) and dragged him back inside. He would surely bruise from each time he hit the stairs, but that didn’t matter when she didn’t want this man to die from bleeding too much or develop an infection. 

She had carried him to her room where she had sat him down in one of her comfortable velour chairs, lifting his feet on a footrest. She had often sat here whenever she wasn’t in her bed, stitching up a new creation. 

But Bernadetta had to stitch him up and quickly. He already had a pale face, half stained with dripping blood, but it had lost whatever color he had. “I’m sorry for having to do this!” She carefully took off his cape, peeled off his jacket, and unbuttoned his undershirt so she could fully assess the damage she had caused. 

He was bleeding around the chest, forehead, and cheek. Thankfully, the cut on his chest didn’t appear too deep, and neither did his cheek, but the one on his forehead begged to differ. She got ahold of cleaning supplies and wiped the blood off the affected and surrounded areas.

It was then when Bernadetta realized she dropped her needle during the time when she was trying to scare him off. _This is_ so _not my day! Why me?_ She scurried over to where her box of needles were, placed one over the candlelights of her room, and carefully sterilized her needle. 

“I hope this doesn’t hurt,” she said, readying her needle as she furrowed her brow in concentration.

After, she wiped off the excess blood. She watched him as he breathed in and out. At least his breaths weren’t as shallow anymore. A minimal amount of color had returned to his face. She had removed his bangs away from his face, watching him as he recovered in the candlelight. 

He was the first man she had seen in years. 

When she was spying at him and trying to scare her off, he looked like the scariest person she had ever seen, almost as scary as her father and maybe as scary as that lady, but now that his eyes were closed and he appeared as though he were sleeping, she thought he wasn’t nearly as terrifying. Maybe kind of oddly cute?

“What are you thinking, Bernie?” she said under her breath and looked away from his face in embarrassment. It only worsened when she realized he was shirtless thanks to her efforts, the small wisps of hair in the center of his chest reminding her that this was something incredibly indecent of her to do. She saw something glint in his gloved hand while she did so. “Huh?” 

It was her needle and thread! How did he find it?

She took it out of his hand and carefully inspected it for any holes it made in his gloves. They appeared unblemished. It didn’t appear to have poked him at all. She inspected his gloves. They appeared expensive based off the material. Either way, she was relieved by this.

“Phew,” she said. 

She decided to make him as comfortable as possible, grabbing a blanket and a pillow from her cupboard and separating his satchel from him. 

A book had fallen out. It was large and made quite an impact on the ground. So much so that Bernadetta prayed it wouldn’t make a hole in the floor. Her room was among the final vestiges of House Varley that wasn’t completely deteriorated. 

Bernadetta picked it up, inspecting the book. It was a book of reagents. 

She eyed the sleeping man as she opened the book. _Reagents? Is he a mage of some sort?_

It would make sense as to _why_ he was here in the first place. There were many magical properties that could be found up here in the mountains. It was what got her into where she was in the first place. 

The table of contents showed they were sorted into different sections. Reagents that came from beasts of all sorts, or from the water —such as a fish’s scale— of rocks and gems, and of course, of plants.

Bernadetta flipped to that section of the book, reading whatever caught her eye. And then she saw it. The picture of the flower. 

That cursed, cursed flower, envied by all of Fódlan.

The flower that made things the way they were. Most of what was written surrounding the flower had been embellished. Some details were outright untrue.

The man stirred in his seat. She set the book aside on the other side of the bed. She hadn’t anticipated him waking up this soon. _Oh, how much time has passed oh no! He’s going to kill me? Why didn’t I leave him outside?_

But it was too late now. He was conscious now.

Bernadetta jumped to the floor on the other side of the bed, where he couldn’t see her from his vantage point. She hoped he would just leave already come morning. _Please leave!_

She hoped he wouldn’t sense her presence. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the worst. Surely he would be roaring mad with a vengeance now that she had hurt him. He was a mage and clearly a powerful one. 

_This is it. The end of Ol’ Bernie._

* * *

Hubert was woken up thanks to a soft candlelight glinting in the corner of his eyes. He also felt a warmth enveloping him, like an embrace almost. The warmth had come from a blanket that had enveloped him.

A sharp pain hit him when he moved his jaw, rendering him fully awake. 

He was in a room that was almost an entire contrast to the dreamlike scenario he had found himself earlier this evening. The walls were red and full of portraits and images that seemed hand drawn, including a portrait of the night sky. To the left of him was a large canopy bed with white covers that appeared well used and disheveled. His book had been tossed there. 

When Hubert shed some of the blanket, he was surprised to see he was shirtless and not only that, but that there were fresh stitches on his chest. 

The pieces had now fully come together now and based on his deductions, the inhabitant of this abandoned estate must have been in the same room as him, but she was clearly hiding from him. She wasn’t malicious as far as he could tell. Not after apparently attacking him and then stitching him up, as well as ensuring his comfort. It was clear she didn’t want to kill him, otherwise she wouldn’t have stitched him up and made him as comfortable as possible. “I know you’re in here somewhere. Show yourself.”

The response he got was a whimper. 

_Now_ things were becoming a little clearer. It was apparent this person was scared of him to some capacity. Of course, he was but an intruder, breaking through the gates and dallying forth as if he belonged here.

“Please...go away. You don’t have to go now because it’s dark and cold outside and I don’t want you to die out there, but…Please don’t kill me!” The voice began to sob uncontrollably. It was then when he spotted what looked like a dress peeking from under the bed.

Hubert was now at an impasse of sorts. “I will not kill you nor will I hurt you.”

“Oh...okay...that’s good! Thank you for not killing me, Mr. Stranger!”

“You may call me Hubert,” he said in an attempt to make things easier for the two of them.

“I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you! I just wanted to scare you away, Hubert.”

“Do you live here?”

“I’ve lived here my whole life.”

Hubert didn’t want to ask if she knew about the rumors, rather he had a whole host of questions he wanted to ask. Such as how was this girl living on a day-to-day basis? Did she go out hunting? And how did she manage to live in such an unsafe and unsanitary place with crumbling architecture?

“May I know your name, please?” That way he would feel a lot less like the uninvited guest he was. 

“I’m Bernadetta. You can call me ‘Bernie’ if you want.”

She still hadn’t come out from under the bed. “It’s quite nice to make your acquaintance, Bernadetta. Wouldn’t you rather come out from under where you are? I’m certain it must be uncomfortable for you.”

“Um...no need! I’m perfectly comfortable here. A-OK, even! I can stay here for the night and then when you leave tomorrow, I can come back.”

She wasn’t understanding that he wouldn’t leave until his very specific goal was achieved. That was, mostly because she didn’t know of them. Or at least he didn’t think so. “I’m afraid that won’t do, Bernadetta. You see, there was an item here I am supposed to obtain for my research. Surely, you must have figured out what item by now.”

“I know...the flower. You mean the dragon’s vine, don’t you?”

“It’s also known as such, yes.”

“You won’t find it because it hasn’t grown. And if I don’t help you grow it, you’ll curse me, won’t you? You’re just like her, aren’t you? Well, I won’t let you curse me because I am not afraid of you or what people like you are capable of.” Hubert saw a pair of vines squiggle underneath the bed. _What is going on here?_

“I shall place no such hex on you. My intentions are purely for the plant only. My magic is only for attacking purposes. If I may, I can broker a deal with you if you so please.”

“You won’t want that,” she said. 

“And why is that?”

“Because once you see me, you’ll want to leave this place forever.”

“Well,” Hubert began, “I would admittedly be more comfortable, if I could see as to whom I am speaking with.”

“I…” Bernadetta sighed. “Fine.” He heard a shuffling noise before he saw Bernadetta rise. At first, her silhouette had misled him, for he saw what looked like stringy hair, but instead were purple vines. Her skin appeared green and her hands were a series of vines that stretched forth, with little leaflets that resembled fingers. Her mouth appeared to have little hairs with teeth. It seemed as though she were half plant, half human. The most striking feature was her eyes. How human they looked. Hubert was too far away from her to get a clear look of them, especially in this candlelight. But all Hubert could think of was, _but how?_

The book wasn’t lying. There was indeed a rumor of an...unnatural girl living her, but none had lived to see what she had looked like. Hubert had thought it ridiculous, but now that he was face to face with the subject of the rumors, he no longer believed that was the case as she stood feet away from him. 

“You’re not reacting,” she said. 

“I understand now what you meant about curses,” he said. 

She placed one hand (well, vine) on her hip. “You’re supposed to be cowering in fear or running away from a freak like Bernie.”

“We were in the middle of a conversation about a deal, yes?”

Bernadetta was at a loss for words, and crossed her arms. “I-I guess, so.”

“Now, if you help me grow this plant, I will leave the second I have it in my hands, no questions asked, and not a second more.”

“You will?”

“It is important to not only myself, but to the Adrestian Empire and to Fódlan as well that I retrieve this flower.”

She looked pained. “Is-is there another outbreak?”

He shook his head. “The outbreak has been contained for quite some time,” he said, chuckling. “However, I am here to see what other properties dragon’s vine may have. After all, they were said to have existed during the time of the goddess.” Not that he had believed in anything, but now that he was face-to-face with a half plant, half girl, perhaps Hubert believed he should have gotten into the habit of not completely doubting stories no matter how far-fetched they seemed. 

Hubert struck that thought away from his mind. No, that was ridiculous to think of, too.

“So...you’re not here to kill plant monster Bernie?”

“Contrary to whatever the book may say about a monster protecting the plant, it is clear that the girl before me is no monster.”

That seemed to have struck a chord with her. Then she tensed. “You’re lying. You’re only saying that just to flatter me and then you’ll take me away and put me in a traveling troupe, where people get to throw peanuts at the scary plant lady. Or you’ll sell me off to some mad scientist!”

 _Where is she getting these ideas from?_ Hubert tried to rub his temples, then winced as a sharp pain hit his forehead. He hissed in pain. “If you were truly a monster, you would have finished the job and killed me by now. Rather, you cleaned up my wounds and...well given me warmth and shelter.” He pointed to the blanket for effect. “I will do nothing of the sort. You have my word.”

“Oh.”

“Now, would you be willing to help me with this? Perhaps I can attempt to do the same for you in some form or another.”

Bernadetta hesitated. “I mean, you’re scary, but you came all the way here, right? And raising a dragon’s vine isn’t easy. I mean, I do have the seeds and I can give them to you, but not everyone can grow them.” There was a wistful look on her face. 

“How long do they take to grow?”

“With proper care, three months. Do you still want to do this? You can be my guest, but I’m no fun to be around with.”

Hubert took in a deep breath. _I'm no fun to be around, either._ “If that’s what it takes, then yes.”

Hubert was interested in extracting from this rare plant, but instead he had come to find something _much_ more fascinating. And he wasn’t going to go away that easily.

* * *

Bernadetta always had an affinity for plants. She loved them all. The pretty ones, the ugly ones, the celebrated and the misunderstood ones. Her green thumb was one of her gifts—and one of her curses. 

Her father used to tout it to the other nobles saying it was one of the things that made her marriageable. By the time she was a teenager, her skills were widely known and since her father liked to collect rare plants, have her grow them, then sell them at full bloom up to three times the cost…

And that was what did them in. 

Her father, her awful, _awful_ father caused ruin to their house thanks to his greed and need to profit off the suffering of others. And even now, she faced the effects of it. 

People had left her alone ever since the enchantress placed her curse upon House Varley and they had faded from everyone’s memory. Even now, as their house crumbled into nothingness, only she remained, a prisoner of her name. 

Hubert wasn’t in his chair when she had woken up. She wasn’t able to sleep at first knowing there was another person sleeping just feet away from her in her room but once she saw his steady breaths and the rise and fall of his chest, she had eventually lulled herself into sleep.

Rather she found him surveying her hungry plants in the greenhouse. He was wearing his clothes again and looked cleaner today than yesterday. The stitches were still intact on his face and he looked eager to start working. 

“Good morning,” he said. 

Now that they were standing near each other, Bernadetta couldn’t help but feel small in comparison to him. He was incredibly tall, looming entirely over her, his green eyes intently fixed on her. It was odd being exposed to him while sleeping first. Hubert looked terrifying like this, with his low eyebrows and the immense dark circles under his eyes.

She looked at his clothes once more in her effort to avoid eye contact and saw the tear marks in them thanks to the glass. _I ought to try and fix that, maybe._

And even though it was cloudy outside, Bernadetta felt even more self conscious that Hubert had a full daylight view of her. He could see her fully green skin, her vine-y hair, the leafy components around her fingers. And yet he spoke to her so casually as if she wasn’t a plant monster but a girl. 

Bernadetta didn’t want to trust him. She stood several feet away. Meanwhile, the flowers and nearby plants were begging her to be fed. _Please feed us. Water us._

“Um, morning Hubert. Can you um, set up a fence? They’re in the storage shed over there. I need to water the plants in here. They’re pretty thirsty!”

“Alright.”

Hubert picked up a fence while Bernadetta watered the plants that begged for the most water. 

“Now make sure to get a water pot. I’ll ready the seeds.” Bernadetta checked where the seeds were. She had plenty of dragon’s vines seeds. She didn’t want to tell Hubert that she too, had something of a fascination with this plant. She didn’t know him well enough for that. 

She grabbed her clay pot and filled it with gravel and then some soil. Hubert watched her as she did so. Bernadetta’s plant instincts were to close her eyes and enjoy the soft cool feeling of the soil in her leafy fingers but since there was another person watching her, she didn’t submit to that feeling.

Instead, she ignored the feeling and watered it. 

“You make it seem quite easy,” he said. 

“It’s not, though. This plant is um, high maintenance. It will scream for water all the time once the seeds start to take root. Soon it’ll start to grow. And then we have to move the fence to a place where the ivy can settle in and grow. It’ll start doing that in hmm...maybe two days, maybe? They start pretty fast.” 

Hubert crossed his arms. “I see. And it’s constant watering after?”

“The plant won’t just trust anyone. This entire fence will be overwrought with vines in one month. You won’t be able to see any traces of it. Then we need to add another fence, maybe two, even! The flowers won’t start to bloom for a few months after. Trust me on this.”

Silence. Then he spoke, “You’re the expert. I’ll follow any instructions you give.”

She got up and met him, face-to-face again. “So um, that’s it for right now. It’ll start to take root probably tomorrow and some more the next day, I’d say. So um, you’re free to go um, eat or study or do whatever it is you do. So um...bye!”

Bernadetta scurried off, taking her waterpot with her, running to the kitchens and the other places where her carnivorous plants were. She hadn’t heard him going after her as she ate in peace. She hoped this was a continuing routine between them. 

* * *

Hubert had so many questions about Bernadetta that he didn’t know where to even begin. 

First of all, there was the matter of her cursed body, which was clearly a topic he knew better than to delve on. Second, there was the thought of what powerful magic could possibly do this to her? Hubert considered himself to be a decently powerful enough magician, but this wasn’t in any kinds of books. _Could this possibly be a foreign magic or Agarthan in origin?_

The following day, Bernadetta’s prediction had come true about the roots taking form, and the day after, they had moved the fence away from the greenhouse. She maintained constant vigilance on the roots that were starting to bare their proverbial claws on the fence. That brought him to the third matter he was so interested in: the way Bernadetta often spoke about plants, as if they were companions of hers. As if they could _speak_ to her.

He understood she had little to no human interaction with anyone for years, but the way she _knew_ plants was an admirable gift. Her verbiage regarding them were of emotions, of unyielding compassion. It was a trait that Hubert grew to quickly admire.

And after they took care of the plants in the mornings, she would scurry off around the mansion, away from him. 

He understood that he was her unwilling guest and didn’t bother to follow her around whenever they’d break for the day. 

Hubert instead decided to focus on her library and what was left of it. 

If Bernadetta’s room were the least decrepit place inside the house, then the library was second only to her room. Books remained hidden in glass bookcases and although there were moss on the floors, then at least the chairs weren’t rotted here. Hubert would often pass the time here, reading books that centered on the history of the mountains and it’s resources...as well as its uses during wartimes of the past. He took to sweeping the room, fighting with the moss on the floor with a carefully placed fireball, and dusting the glass and chairs.

The only times he would see her after was during the nighttime when he would retreat to her room and sleep on the chair, blankets, and pillows she provided. It was only due to her insistence as her room was the safest place, protected and cared for.

It wasn’t until the fifth day did she seek out conversation with him. It was after some of the ivy began to climb up the fence. Already one vine was halfway through the fence.

“Can I...can I see your face?” she asked. 

Hubert knew it was about the stitches in his face but it still felt odd for a girl to inspect him like that. He knew he wasn’t handsome to say the least and someone people often didn’t bother noticing as he took to the shadows.

“Oh gosh that sounds really weird! Sorry! I just wanted to see if your cuts have healed. Facial cuts tend to heal the fastest, believe me, I should know.” He lowered his face, allowing her to inspect it. It was bright outside today. The brightest day since he had arrived. 

Hubert found her utterly fascinating, with the way her vines felt on his face. Hubert never wondered what it was like for a plant to caress his face, but this was probably it. But what he found most striking were her very human eyes. Large, soft, and gray, much like the clouds that surrounded the skies, or even the fog that had taken him here. Hubert took in a discreet breath from their close proximity.

“It’s looking like it’s on it’s way to healing. That’s great! Um, we should go to my room so I can get rid of those stitches.” He followed her to her room. 

It was something of a relief, being alone like this. In the capital, whenever he followed Edelgard around, people were sure to whisper. And although he had slept in this room, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of the social norms that plagued Fódlan about unmarried men and women in these situations. 

Bernadetta carefully removed the stitches in the soft candlelight of her room, with Hubert a perfect statue. 

“There. All done!” She looked away from him. “You know, I was really worried about the cut in your forehead. It looked deeper than the others, but it looks great now.”

“Will it leave a scar?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. The other one down there, might, actually.”

“Is that why you didn’t ask to inspect it? Or are we too shy for that?” he said, teasing.

“N-no, that’s not it! P-promise! I’ll bother you about them in a week,” she said backing away from him. He couldn’t see any sort of blush on her skin. Perhaps it was the green tinge to it, yet it was evident she was flustered by it.

They were now in a room full of awkward silence. Hubert cleared his throat. “So I may have seen the food stock you keep in the kitchen and there is truthfully, not much. I’m afraid everything has been eaten or consumed by rodents.”

Bernadetta tittered. “Oh, I haven’t really seen the need to fill them. I do grow some of my own food, like berries and apples and currants. I can get you some if you’d like.”

“No coffee beans?” he asked. He had brought with him only a month’s supply of them. He would need to really stretch them thin if he were to spend three entire months here.

She shook her head. “Those take really long to grow. Sorry! Um, do you want to go berry picking with me, then?” She got up and he followed. He watched the way she walked and how her legs seemed unaffected by the curse. She was incredibly agile and Hubert almost tripped several times thanks to the crumbled stones, while she seemed to know every nook and cranny. 

Hubert saw the odd plants he had an encounter with as he followed her back outside. The berries weren’t growing in the greenhouse, but rather the bushes outside. He found himself enjoying this menial activity, especially as she used her prehensile hair and arms to pick the berries at an alarming speed. It was incredibly different from the things he had to do in the capital, averting watchful gazes. It was carefree and simple. When he had set off on this task, berry picking with a plant girl wasn’t even close to the things he’d do in the interim.

“May I ask you something?”

“Um...sure?”

“What are those plants I see scattered around?”

“Um, which ones?”

“For instance, there’s one with a trumpet like appearance. Inside of it was a half decayed beetle.” 

“Oh, that’s a nepenthes! They're carnivorous plants. Um, they’re my favorites, but they don’t really grow too well in the greenhouse so I have them around.”

“Carnivorous. As though they eat live beings?”

“Bugs, to be exact. But I saw Syrene digest a mouse once! And I saw Juno eat a lizard. It was really amazing!”

Hubert had never heard of a girl talk about this sort of topic. Although he could imagine Edelgard liking one if it ate an entire rodent. But Bernadetta wasn’t like any of the girls at the capital. _Of course she isn’t, she’s half plant._

“Oh you think this is a weird thing to say. Sorry.”

“No, it’s quite fascinating to hear. I was half wondering what a dead beetle was doing inside of a plant. It makes sense now.”

“That was Tatiana. She likes beetles.”

“You name your plants?”

“Well, yes,” she said. “It makes things less...Well, it makes it more fun.”

“Is there a plant section in your library? I’d like to learn more about taking care of plants and their upkeep.” It was one way to pass the time here. But it also made Bernadetta appear...more open to him.

“Oh, um...sure! I can show you my favorite book on the topic. They’re really informative and don’t go too much into things. I think you’d like it, Hubert!”

Hubert inserted a blueberry into his mouth. Bernadetta took one of her own. “Then I would very much enjoy that.”

* * *

Bernadetta was out of her room more these days. It mostly had to do with maintaining the growing ivy, but also because of the guest she had.

In just three weeks, she was beginning to consider Hubert to be something of a friend. He often spent his days reading in her library, having cleaned up the room significantly and made it someplace where he said he could read in peace. That it was more relaxing than reading in the capital. She caught him reading and then rereading her book of plants, which arguably made her smile.

Despite their rocky beginnings, Bernadetta didn’t think she could find a fun companion in Hubert.

She gained the courage to start asking about his daily life nearly a month in. “So, um...what do you do in the capital? Are you a student?” She was in the library with him, reading one of her favorite novels about a man and a woman who circle around each other at parties and banter. But she was actually more interested in making conversation with Hubert now that she felt more comfortable around him.

Hubert shook his head. “Not of any kind, no. My position is rather...unique.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“My official title is Minister of the Imperial Household,” he said, watching her. 

“Oh. Um...what’s that?”

“I watch over the emperor from the shadows. I do all of her bidding and make sure all of her plans come to fruition. No matter the cost.” The way he said it was as though he posed a threat. And Bernadetta could believe it, especially in regards to the way he glowered. She had also seen how effortlessly he had summoned his magic.

“Is that why you look tired all the time?”

Hubert shook his head. “I’ve been stretching out my usage of coffee beans, I admit.”

“It can’t be that. Coffee beans don’t give you black circles under your eyes. Maybe you ought to sleep more.”

“More?” he asked, completely baffled, “I don’t have time to sleep when I’m in the capital.”

“But you’re not in the capital right now,” Bernadetta pointed out in a matter-of-fact tone.

Hubert chuckled. His laugh was a little scary to Bernadetta but she laughed with him. “I suppose you have a point there. I have no way of reaching out to the capital, or to my liege in this state.”

“Is she worried about you?”

Hubert looked pensive. “I’d like to presume that Lady Edelgard does indeed carry a sliver of worry over my deeds, but I have been gone for stretches of time for much longer than three months. I have no way of penning a letter so instead I must do everything I can to keep helping her.”

“You know, it’s always good to hide out and take a break. It’s always helpful to refresh.”

Hubert made a quick motion with his hand, slapping the book with his glove. 

A roach had mounted itself on top of the page. Bernadetta gripped the desk at the sight of what was now the empty husk of a roach before Hubert spoke again, “How annoying these creatures are. Shall we feed this insect’s remains to one of the carnivorous plants?” 

Bernadetta felt her pulse speed up at the suggestion. Their gazes met and Bernadetta quickly looked away, her pulse only speeding up. “Um, yes. Let’s go. And um, perhaps it’s best to feed the pitcher plants or the sundews dead insects. Flytraps don’t really like dead bugs.”

“Then you pick. You always seem to know which plants need it the most,” he said, scooping up the dead roach with his gloves. 

“Um...yeah, I guess I do,” she tittered, still processing the fact that her pulse wouldn’t stop throbbing. _Aren’t I a plant? Am I supposed to have a heart and other organs? What’s happening?!_

* * *

At Bernadetta’s suggestion, Hubert started thinking about this retreat as a vacation of sorts. It wasn’t exactly the kind of vacation spot most people would choose. Some people would have preferred to go to the beaches of Brigid, or perhaps to see the sights of the Aquatic City or perhaps to the opera house in Enbarr. But Hubert wasn’t most people. He would often burn in the sun, lacked an interest in anything regarding the Alliance, and found most operas melodramatic. 

He never really thought of the idea of being on vacation. The idea seemed selfish and utterly ludicrous when there were countless things to do. 

That being said, as the first month passed, Hubert had begun to understand why this was a difficult plant to grow. The vine grew at an abnormal speed and had completely overtaken the fence in that time. The leaves needed to be trimmed on a constant basis and at Bernadetta’s instruction, upkeep was the most important thing to do at this time. 

Hubert often helped her water the other plants before and after and would help her out with menial chores. Even though he was trying to treat this as a vacation, he didn’t like not committing to a task. 

He had quickly grown used to being with Bernadetta like this. He was quick to accept a plant girl into his life astonishingly quick, but she wasn’t a threat of any kind and it was clear it would remain at that. He was enthralled by all of her abilities, including her prehensile hair and arms and hands and the swift, graceful way she moved and the way she was sensitive to all of the plant’s needs. She also pointed out all of the damage his clothes had taken from their meeting and had patched them up (after vehemently apologizing, of course). 

One day, he was suddenly brought on by the notion of wanting to walk with her.

“Would it be alright if we could indulge in a stroll together?”

“Where would we walk?” Bernadetta asked, her gray eyes meeting his. Hubert was not one for eye contact, but he found himself looking more and more at them whenever he conversed with her. Unfortunately, she did not reciprocate. He noticed she was often looking at him everywhere but his eyes. Her line of vision was often at his chin or at the top of his head, or on his collar, but never his eyes.

“Perhaps around the flowers. We can make several rounds. Or you can give me a tour of your house. Either would work.” Hubert had only cycled between the greenhouse, the kitchen, the entryway where the stairs were, the library and her bedroom (he had asked her if a guest room or another were okay to inhabit, but those were the only usable rooms. Bernadetta had continued to insist he could have his own corner in her room, which was the least obliterated and most comfortable room in her house).

“Oh, um...okay! Just um, follow after me.” After walking a few paces, Bernadetta asked Hubert a question. “So um, what’s the capital like?”

“Enbarr? Well, it’s the most populated city in all of Fódlan.”

Bernadetta gasped. “That’s scary.”

“Well, there are many advantages to living in such a populated area. For one, there’s just about everything you’d need. With a few exceptions, of course. Nevertheless, shops are around every corner.”

“I see,” she said as they walked out of the greenhouse. “So if I wanted to get sewing supplies I can just find them.”

“Easily so. That would be but a trivial concern.”

“What else is there?”

“There’s the opera, if you’re so inclined.” 

Bernadetta made no indication of an interest in the opera. She led him upstairs, past the library and her room. What was so interesting about the second floor were the walls and carpet. They gave off an indication that they were wet with moisture, yet he felt nothing of the sort when he walked or ran a glove down the wall. “What’s Edelgard like?”

Hubert paused. He had never been asked that question before. There was so much he could say about Edelgard. She was his best friend, but for the sake of keeping the conversation light, not to mention the fact that he had only known Bernadetta a month, he would need to choose his words carefully. “Edelgard is a just ruler…” Hubert didn’t like his words, but he continued. “She bears the weight of the crown and wishes to change Fódlan for the better. She is modest, yet private, and there is no equal to her position. She is the most admirable person I know.”

“Oh. And you help her, don’t you?”

“It is my solemn duty as a son of House Vestra. I will do anything that will benefit her cause.”

Hubert wanted to know what she was thinking. Her smile had faded. Hubert was now in a room that looked like an office room. Except there were books tossed around everywhere. The windows were all shattered. _One could easily fall to their death here._

“What’s this?”

“It was my father’s study. We’re in his quarters. Well, his and my mother’s. They were, um...well, the curse took them,” she said.

Hubert had nothing to say about that. He wasn’t one for condolences. Then again, there was nothing sorrowful about Bernadetta’s tone or expression. 

“These are the worst affected areas of the house,” she said when she opened the door to her father’s room.

Or lack thereof. 

There was almost no ceiling, nor floor save for the entryway. “There’s not much to see. This was the part that went away first.” Bernadetta swallowed. Hubert felt a cold breeze sweep by them. “My father wasn’t a good person, to say the least. It’s his greed that caused all this,” she said. “I sometimes come here to think. It can be pretty outside, especially at night, and the stars are all glowing and pretty.”

Hubert now understood why there were portraits of the night sky in her room. It was only daytime right now. “Maybe one evening we can do that together. There’s so much light in Enbarr that I forget there’s such a thing as constellations.”

“Um, okay, Hubert. I’m looking forward to it!” The sorrow in her eyes had faded—not entirely, but enough for Hubert to feel a sense of relief. And was replaced with the softest of smiles, the small hairs around her mouth looking delightfully cute to him. 

And in that moment, Hubert could have sworn that he had seen what she looked like as a human girl for a flash of a second. Hubert was a man who always knew what to do but for the first time in his life, he was at a complete and total loss.

* * *

Hubert’s stitches were healing. 

It had taken longer than she had expected for them to heal, but Bernadetta was too shy to ask him about his healing progress. She was now even more shy about seeing his chest. Even though the act was clinical, there was an intimacy to seeing so much skin. 

“Try not to breathe in too deep,” she said while carefully undoing her work. Unable to control her own breaths, Bernadetta realized she wasn’t practicing what she preached.

Hubert had taken notice. “Was that directed at me or at yourself?”

“Um...both?”

“My, my you’re quite honest.”

Bernadetta laughed, in part due to nerves. She recalled how her father wanted her to act. To be quiet, demure, submissive. If he caught her stitching up a man like this in her bedroom and then unstitching him, however platonic this could be, he would have had a fit and it would be a week in the chair. It would actually be longer than a week, considering that Hubert’s chest was bare.

_But he’s not here anymore._

“I um...to be honest, um...I…” She unknowingly rested her leafy hand on his chest.

“You don’t need to say it,” he said.

Bernadetta noticed what she had just done and took her hand away from his chest. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! You think Bernie’s a freak and a pervert and that’s not what this is!”

Hubert didn’t react. “No one’s said that at all. Now, I would like for you to finish the job, Bernadetta,” he said evenly. “You are in no way, breaking any boundaries or doing something our society has taught us is evil.”

For a moment, Bernadetta wondered if he was angry at her for being a weirdo but then quieted when he pointed to the stitches on his chest. She took a deep breath and refocused on Hubert’s chest, ignoring the smaller details of it, such as how warm it felt against her skin, or the small black hairs at the center (hairs she definitely did not want to touch, no way!), or the various burn marks that lined through his stomach. 

What she was doing was supposed to be detached but to her, it felt anything but. She wanted to ask him about the burn marks, she wanted to apologize for being so afraid of him, she wanted to tell him she was sorry for inflicting this in the first place…

And the next thing she knew the stitches had come off. Just like that. 

But the scar remained. 

“I’m sorry, Hubert,” she said while staring at the scar. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You had your reasons,” he said. “And it appears that I was rather lucky, even. Not everyone can tend to injuries in this matter. It seems you have experience in that area.”

Bernadetta looked away from him and into one of her portraits detailing the night sky. “Well, I’ve had to patch my dolls numerous times,” she said. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the truth, either.

Hubert wasn’t buying it. “Yet you have a handle on skin I’ve seen only rivaled by medics.”

She didn’t stop looking away from him. She swallowed. The air was so quiet between them. “They’re gone. All of them. I told you before that my father was not a good man. Whenever I displeased him...well…”

His hand found what were the equivalent of her hands. “You do not need to talk about it if it pains you so, Bernadetta.” He ran his thumb around the length of her vines. The motion felt so intimate, Bernadetta was back to not breathing. Not while her heart was speeding out of control.

“I want to, but maybe not tonight,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize. None of this is your fault.” Bernadetta knew the curse wasn’t her fault. It was all her father’s, but all she could think about were possible ways this was. _She_ was the one who was good with plants all along. The dragon’s vine was exceedingly hard to find and even more difficult to cultivate. “This would make for quite the story when I get back home, not that I would tell people. It’s too strange to believe,” he said, changing the subject. Hubert began to put on his nightshirt. “I thought you were a mouse that evening.”

“And I thought you were a rat. Until you spoke, anyway.”

“You aren’t wrong. Many have called me a rat.”

“Neither are you. My father’s servants called me a mouse back then.” 

Hubert laughed as he lifted his blanket and fluffed his pillows. “Thank you, for patching up my wound, little mouse.”

“Um yeah, Ratbert.” He began to laugh. “Or do you like Hu-rat more?” His laugh was louder and a part of her thought he sounded menacing, still, another thought it was hopelessly cute. “Um...night.”

“Goodnight.”

As Bernadetta scurried to her bed, all she could think about was about what he said about going home. Even though he was her unwanted visitor, she felt an ache inside telling her she didn’t want him to leave.

* * *

Hubert was surprised that the dragon’s vine was growing all too well during the second month. Bernadetta was able to climb to the top of the fence and began cutting away at it. 

“Oh no,” he heard her say. “Oh no.”

“What’s going on up there?” he asked.

“Bugs are killing the plant up here.”

“Do you own any insecticide? Do you need me to bring one of your insect eating plants to you?” he asked. 

Bernadetta shook her head. “Can you...can you look away, Hubert?” she asked. 

Hubert had obliged but he could hear slurping noises coming from the top of the fence. It didn’t take much guessing as to what Bernadetta was doing up there. He wasn’t surprised by the revelation that she too, ate insects. After all, her mouth greatly resembled that of a flytrap.

“There. All done. They know better than to threaten our plant,” she said. 

When Hubert turned around, he saw several beetles on the floor, sucked dry. “Good,” he said, in a feeble attempt in being as encouraging as possible. 

Bernadetta leapt off the fence, landing gracefully. “Um...sorry about that,” she said. I know that’s pretty gross of me.”

“It most certainly explains how you’ve been able to sustain yourself all these years,” he said. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

“Please don’t. It’s too embarrassing and unladylike!”

“That you have an insatiable bloodlust for insects? I don’t blame you. So do the rest of us.” 

“Really?” she said, her flytrap mouth wide. Hubert could see some of the...nutrients on her hair follicles. 

“Of course.” 

“It’s one of the more disgusting aspects of the curse. Believe me, I tried to eat normally but only fruits and veggies helped. When the bugs started coming...well…I just...I’m sorry about all that. I just wanted to help you grow the flower. And they’re starting to bud a little! It won’t be much longer now.”

Hubert felt a prickling sense of excitement, knowing that their hard work was coming to fruition. “Good. Lady Edelgard will be most pleased when I return home.”

“Are you...Are you getting the plants for her?” she asked, her voice expectant. 

Hubert realized it was high time to be honest. “In a way, yes. We have enemies. I call them ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark’, but to be more apt, they’re known as Agarthans according to our data. They have caused much grievance in the shadows of Fódlan, and much harm to Edelgard. My sins are deplorable, but their sins are many.”

He told her everything, about Edelgard being locked up for years. How every single one of her siblings were subjected to their cruel experimentations in part due to these people and had died. How Edelgard was the final heir to the throne left. How this flower could be used as a reagent in dissolving her second crest, or perhaps possibly an extension of her shortened lifespan. Or perhaps as a biological weapon against these people, all the while mentioning the possibilities were endless.

He told her details he never expected to tell, such as comforting his liege during those times whenever she experienced a nightmare of one of her siblings perishing in the cells next to hers. Or how he would watch over her whenever she was feeling ill from the effects of the procedure. In some ways, he wondered if his rather diluted reaction to meeting a half-plant person was in part to all of the horrors he had been forced to witness as a vassal of House Hresvelg.

Bernadetta had reacted in horror, her vines wrapping around him in an embrace. “I want to help you, Hubert.” Was all she could say. “Both you, and Edelgard.”

She was sobbing, although the tears weren’t coming out, Hubert was able to sense true and genuine emotion from her.. 

Hubert found the gesture touching. If this were a month or two ago, he would have found all of this nauseating, but now his opinion was starting to change. He entertained the thought of Bernadetta coming out of this house and helping him lay waste to his enemies, her vines choking the life out of them. Perhaps she could crush them. The thought was satisfying.

The idea of her coming with him was all too enticing, but he knew that others wouldn’t be like him. They couldn’t understand her past, or her curse. If they could barely tolerate him, then why tolerate her despite how kind and creative and interesting she was?

This was the exact kind of world that Hubert wanted to help Edelgard change. And he would ensure that all of this would come to fruition.

* * *

Bernadetta had started a new project. 

When the buds had started to form, she had known that her time with Hubert was steadily coming to a close. She wanted to give him something, anything for him to remember her by. Something solid and concrete and memorable.

That was always the issue at hand. 

Memory. 

Bernadetta...and House Varley was barely in the minds of people. She had faded into obscurity and was the subject of rumors, but to Hubert, she was concrete. She was whole.

That was why she wanted to do this for him. 

She knew that developing feelings for him was the stupidest thing imaginable. Especially considering she was the one who wanted him to leave in the first place. And besides, she was an insect eating plant monster. 

Who could possibly love a cursed abomination like her back?

Instead of thinking about the impossible, Bernadetta worked on her piece stitch by stitch by stitch by stitch. She had to finish this and complete it soon, before the flowers began to blossom.

Hubert tossed and turned yards away from her while she worked intently in her bed. 

“You’re still awake,” he said in the darkness.

“I can’t really sleep,” she said.

“Neither can I. I ran out of coffee beans last week. How would you remedy this?” he asked. 

She put her creation aside. She had been careful enough so that he wouldn’t see what she had been working on. “I don’t know, Hubert.” _I don’t know anything anymore._

After a pause, Hubert spoke. “I have an idea.” He got out of the chair, the blanket still wrapped around him. “Come with me.”

Bernadetta figured out what he had in mind halfway through the trek in her corridor. 

He had opened the door to her father’s room. Or rather the remnants of it and lay down, watching the stars. She followed, lying next to him on the cold hardwood floors. Hubert pulled her beside him. He wrapped the blanket around them. “You once said you come out here and think, correct?”

She remembered to breathe. “Um, yeah, when I can’t sleep. It gets a little too cold for me here so I have to leave but when I’m here, it can be really calming.” 

Bernadetta wondered if it was okay to hold onto him, at least for warmth. Her heart pounded against her chest as she mulled it over. She ultimately fought against the impulse and didn’t give in. Especially considering this was once her father’s room so long ago.

She watched the stars as they glowed and twinkled. Some were bright yellow. Others a more faded red. Some were a bright blue. A shooting star passed by. 

“It’s a shooting star. Make a wish,” she said. She found herself wishing for a way to be with Hubert. Or at the very least, to be in his memory. “Did you make one?”

“I did.”

“Good. Now you have to keep it a secret and don’t tell anyone or else it won’t come true!”

“Alright, then.” Hubert yawned. Seconds later, he was breathing steadily as though he had been hit by a sleeping spell. Bernadetta shivered and moved closer to him, basking in his warmth. She hoped that wasn’t too forward of her when she wrapped her vine-like arms around him and drifted off to sleep.

That night she dreamed of them dancing together in an empty glass room that wasn’t too unlike her greenhouse. Music played but there was no source to the music. Bernadetta was fully human again, her hands holding his as they waltzed together, her steps elegant and on pace. She wasn’t ugly or unmarriageable here and the way Hubert stared at her was loving and kind. 

She felt as though she were floating on clouds. 

They stopped dancing and Hubert bowed in deference to her. He lowered and picked up her hand, his lips brushing against her hand. Bernadetta felt her heartbeat hammering against her chest like a drum as she pulled him forward, inviting him for a kiss. 

She wanted to know what his mouth felt like against hers. Her _actual_ mouth, not...not…

When she had woken up, she was back in her bed. Hubert was back in his chair, comfortably asleep. She had questioned if their stargazing was real, but she still felt a shiver from the cold. She resumed working on her creation. 

Hubert was staring at her when he woke up. Bernadetta was too engrossed in her project before she lifted her head to see him. “What’s up?”

“Your hair,” he said. “There’s flowers in your hair.”

Bernadetta touched the vines that made up her hair. She felt soft petals through the tips of her vines. She got out of bed and walked to a mirror. Normally she hated using the mirror and had hidden it in a corner she never used under a sheet. 

There were indeed white flowers growing on her hair. They were not unlike the ones that grew on top of her flytrap. 

“They suit you,” he said. 

Bernadetta tried to remain calm. This had never happened before. Bernadetta thought she had figured everything out about her body but this was a first. “Um, thanks.” She looked at herself again in the mirror. They were actually kind of pretty. Really pretty, in fact. Bernadetta liked how they made her look. She should have been panicking, but instead a calm wave had hit her.

Later that morning, Bernadetta found a certain kind of bitterness in Huber’s delight now that the flowers were beginning to bloom. Hubert picked them up one by one and began a spell to freeze them in their place.

“We did it!” she said in an effort to conceal her sadness.

“You have my sincerest gratitude, Bernadetta,” he said.

“You should probably wait a day or two before they’ve all bloomed. I mean, at the least if they don’t work, you can probably sell them for a ton of money. Or keep them. They’re yours now.”

Hubert had agreed to stay until all of them had bloomed, which bought her enough time for her to finish up on her project. She worked relentlessly on it, making sure every stitch was meaningful and that he would come to love her creation, as odd as it was. 

Somewhere along the line, she saw the enchantress’s face before hers. 

The enchantress was beautiful. Her pink-tinged amber hair looked well-maintained but it was her electric blue eyes that stood out to Bernadetta. They looked positively soulless. 

“Three hundred thousand gold and I will not relent. This is my final price,” her father had said. Bernadetta believed her father was a bear poking at a demonic beast. But there was nothing she could do right now to dissuade her father from doing this. “That is the _only_ way you shall have a hold of the devil’s ivy.”

“Um...father, it’s called the dragon’s ivy.” Her mother tightly gripped her shoulders as her father sneered at her. The number one rule of the house was that her father was always right. Even when he was wrong, he was absolutely right. His word was law.

The woman had taken off her cloak, showing her elaborate furred red dress. A symbol she was an expert gremory and not one to mess with. Bernadetta gasped. “You do not know just who you crossed,” she said. “For your greed you shall pay the price.” She walked over to where her father stood and began choking the life out of him. “Everything you know will be forgotten and your legacy will crumble to pieces.” Magic began pouring out of her. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. 

The earth shook beneath them.

People began to scatter and leave the estate, including her own mother. The earth swallowed the unlucky ones whole. Bernadetta made a swift retreat to her greenhouse as the winds picked up, tearing a piece of her house down as she took shelter and hid beneath her plants, clutching her pot where her flytrap stood. She needed something, anything to hold onto. 

The scent of magic overwhelmed her. It smelled like sulfur and death and as if the fabric of the world was being torn apart. Bernadetta closed her eyes as the world shook.

She was awoken by a shaking sensation. “Bernadetta?” It was Hubert. “Is something the matter?”

“Huh what? What’s…” She was crying, although the tears were unable to fall. “Oh. It was a nightmare.”

“You were screaming.”

“I was dreaming about her. About the enchantress. It’s been a while since I dreamed of what happened,” she said. 

To her surprise, Hubert had positioned himself next to her, wrapping his arms around her. “Would you like to tell me about it? It might help you sleep once more.”

Bernadetta hesitated. “I don’t know where to begin, but your book got some of the details right, but a lot of it was exaggerated. But my father never refused her. He wanted money from it, and lots of it…” She told him the story from beginning to end, all while Hubert held her. 

“This might be a theory, but what if the magic caused you to fuse with the flytrap?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even know if I was holding it when it all happened. I just know I ran as far away as I could until it was all over and the next thing I knew, I was like this. No one was around. It was just me and the plants and the fog.”

“And you said you had a crest, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “I don’t think it activated then. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Neither do I, but this magic is too powerful to describe. I know of researchers in the capital who might be able to help. Many of them specialize in the study of crests, some that I personally know, but I could have Lady Edelgard bring in a magic expert from the Kingdom to help..”

“I don’t know. Would it be worth it to study me like this?”

“Yes,” Hubert said with no hesitation.

Bernadetta played into that idea. Of going into the capital and being with Hubert forever. They could be lovers and...No. Marrying her would be out of the question if she looked like this. It wouldn’t look good for an emperor's right hand man to be with such a creature. Not to mention the idea of being an experiment, or a magical test subject seemed awful to her, despite Hubert’s good intentions. And what if...What if...

“What if there’s no cure?”

“We must try everything.”

Bernadetta looked at him. She barely realized he had been stroking the flowers that had grown in her hair. She didn’t think he’d realized it either. She longed to kiss him, to tell him that she had fallen for him but...“Hubert...You have enough on your plate. They’re more important than me and you have a job to do, you know.”

Hubert paused. “Fair enough.”

Bernadetta got back to her position besides him, enjoying the feel of his lean body next to hers. How she regretted not doing this with him sooner. She allowed herself to wrap her vines around him, enjoying the feel of him in turn until she drifted into sleep.

Hubert was packing the next day. Bernadetta knew this time would come. Three months ago, she would have looked forward to this day. Instead she felt a void of emptiness.

Hubert had taken the plant book upon her insistence and made sure to gather everything he needed. 

Bernadetta had accompanied him to the gate. “Thank you for everything, Bernadetta.”

“I know,” she said. “It was honestly fun helping you.” _Fun? Is that all you can come up with?_

“I...agree with that sentiment. Well...farewell, Bernadetta.”

Hubert began to turn away. Bernadetta had almost forgotten about her gift for him. “Wait!” He turned around. “I um...made you something.”

“Did you, now?”

She unfolded her vines, showing the embroidered dragon’s ivy she had made for him. 

“What’s this?”

“It’s for you to wear...um…” She rose up to his collar and pinned the ivy on his clothes. “There. It suits you.”

Hubert gave her the ghost of a smile. “Hm...I’ll be sure to wear this on my person from now on.”

“You will?”

“Of course. Thank you.” He grabbed her vine-y hand and raised it to his lips. Bernadetta wanted to use her vines and pull him towards her and kiss him, but instead she froze on the spot. “Goodbye, Bernadetta.”

“Bye, Hubert.” She saw him off as he walked into the gates. The wind billowed, causing her dress to flap. The trees shook around her as she watched him fade. And then he was gone. “Why me? Why did I have to fall for him?”

Bernadetta had gotten her wish. She was alone again. And yet all she wanted was to take that wish back again.

* * *

Hubert was back in the imperial palace a few days later, working on his research in regards to the flower. He had liquidized some of it. Others had been frozen. He had given a few samples to some crest researchers he knew, mainly to Hanneman von Essar and Linhardt von Hevring. He was hard at work, never coming out of his basement laboratory and only coming out to refill his coffee bean supply and to deal with any other affairs whenever he was called into action. 

He knew that it would take some time for any kind of effective formula to be reached so it was better to start now and not dwell on things. It would only be a waste of time if he didn’t. It would be a waste of time if he had dwelled on other matters. Matters that wouldn’t stop whispering in the back of his mind.

There was a knock on his door. Hubert had hardly heard it, but there was only one person who would dare interrupt him from his experiments. Hubert made sure to hide the mice under a tablecloth before answering. “Come in.”

Edelgard had walked in.

Hubert bowed to her.

“You’ve been here almost every moment since you came back, Hubert.”

“I’ve wasted enough time away from you and away from my duties as your servant.”

Edelgard crossed her arms. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything other than those coffee beans. Come upstairs with me for lunch.”

“But…”

“One lunch won’t hurt your research, Hubert. Today’s lunch is sauteed pheasant and eggs.” Those were his favorite. Hubert looked away from his reagents. The mice under the tablecloth squeaked. 

Edelgard jumped, inching closer towards the entrance. Her scared expression made him feel terrible for keeping mice in here. And it had reminded him of Bernadetta. Hubert chastised himself for that. He couldn’t think of her. Not here. Not now. He tried to make no time to think but in those small moments during his exhaustion, and in all of the moments between, all he could think about was her.

“Oh fine. You win this one.”

The food was absolutely delicious. If there was something he wished were readily available back in the mountains, it would have been the constant supply of high quality foods. Not that he had been able to readily indulge in them because food was only means to survive. But whenever he had something he liked, he admitted he wanted to indulge in certain dishes. 

“How is everything?” he asked Edelgard while they ate. “Do you require my services for anything at the moment?”

“Not for the time being.” Edelgard was pensive. “I’ve noticed upon your arrival that you’ve been acting differently.”

Hubert swallowed an egg. “Is that so?”

“You’ve locked yourself in your basement for far longer than your usual time spent there. Not to mention you’ve been sporting that flower on your collar. Isn’t that the flower you brought back?”

Hubert nodded. He was hesitant to tell Edelgard the entire story. It was too odd to be readily believed. 

“If I were to make a guess, you’ve been working tirelessly not for my sake, but to avoid something. Mostly, to avoid your own thoughts.” Edelgard gasped. “Oh my. Did you take a lover during your time away?”

 _A lover?_ Hubert never had time for any of the sort. And what he had...no, the time he spent with Bernadetta wasn’t what you would simply call…

No.

Hubert was at a loss for words. “If I told you, you would find the story implausible.”

“So what you’re saying is that there really was a monster who roamed the halls of an abandoned estate.”

Hubert said nothing. Not at first, anyway. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. “If I told you a shred of it turned out to be correct, would you believe me?”

“If it’s you, then of course, Hubert,” she said. 

“I feel...a certain sense of discomfort when calling her a monster but Bernadetta…” Hubert told her everything as they were handed their desserts. About how yes, Bernadetta had a monsterous form and with it, unique abilities, but her personality was infectious and captivating and how she was an enticing conversationalist and incredibly talented despite having different appendages for fingers and how well they worked together each and every day with the cultivation of this flower. Hubert barely realized time slipping away as he spoke about her to Edelgard, who remained completely silent while sipping her coffee.

“If I didn’t know any better,” she began, “I’d think you’re in love with her.”

Hubert said nothing. He knew he had developed...feelings for the girl, but he had so many things to do and love was... “That cannot be, Edelgard.” Hubert didn’t want to think about that word. Nor about the fact that she had finally made eye contact with him when they parted. How wonderful she looked when her line of vision was directed at him only.

“Why not?” she said.

“I have a duty to you and to the Empire. I cannot use my time like...like…”

Edelgard’s hand found his. “Hubert...You know I would never lie to you, right?”

“Never. And I could never.”

“How did you feel during your time with her?”

“I…” He struggled to find the words. He exhaled. “I was content.”

“I think it’s quite normal to want to spend your life with someone if you’ve found someone you believe worthy of it. And just for thought. You can still divide your time in service to the empire and be happy with someone. Not doing so will only burn you out faster. I would be happy if you were happy as well.”

Hubert tried to read her face. There were no lines, no scruples in her eyes. She was straight-faced and serious. “Edelgard.”

“If you were to leave the capital and go to this girl, to tell her you love her, I would not make a fuss. It’s important to follow your heart.” 

Hubert finished his coffee. “I see.”

“I’m sure you’ll have time to think about it. Just...I would very much like to meet this extraordinary girl if I were to have a chance, is all I would say.”

Edelgard smiled at him and took her leave. As he watched her go, Hubert asked for another pot of coffee, to go, and pressed his fingers alongside the ivy Bernadetta made, caressing it. There was nothing he wanted to do more than see her again. He thought about the night they had gone stargazing and when she told him to make a wish. Instead of wishing for success with the dragon's vine, he had rather wished for her instead. To bring her here.

“Follow my heart, you say?”

* * *

After Hubert had left, Bernadetta noticed a few changes in her home. 

At first, she thought she was going insane from the isolation but after eating and studying the changes, she realized they were very, very real. 

It had started in the greenhouse.

Bernadetta saw the ceiling had looked...glassy. The sun, whenever it bothered to show up, didn’t feel as harsh on her or on the plants as it sometimes did. Upon further inspection, the glass had come back for whatever reason on the panes. Day by day, more and more of the glass had repaired itself until it looked like a proper greenhouse. 

Then there was the library. 

The moss which Hubert had tried so hard to destroy each and every day stopped growing and the cracks on the floor had dissolved. Even the window looked brighter and less dirtied. It was now very much the library that Bernadetta remembered hiding from her father when she was younger. 

And then there was the entrance, which saw the biggest changes. The crumbled architecture was beginning to fade. There was less decay now. Some of the vines that shaded the windows began to dissipate and much like in the library, the moss was beginning to take its leave. And when Bernadetta gazed at the roof, she no longer saw the holes in it.

Once again, every time she had begun to understand the curse, she was met with something new that entirely changed her mindset of it.

Yet for the first time, Bernadetta now longed to leave this place. She no longer wanted to be confined here. She wanted to learn about the world, see and grow new plants, go to giant textile stores, maybe even see a melodramatic opera piece. 

But most importantly, she wanted to share that experience with Hubert. 

It had been a month since Hubert left. And in that month, she made herself a matching embroidered flower to go along with the one she made Hubert, and when she finished, she had made a resolution with herself. She would leave and find Hubert. She would have to go in a cloak, but she could live off nature and stave people off until she found him again. Bernadetta at least knew where he resided. But getting there would be the problem. 

She packed her things in a basket, secured her flower, placed the cloak over her head, and with a deep breath, she set off into the unknown. 

The fog had begun to obscure her vision. With each step, it had become more clouded, more dense, the grayness making it impossible to see. But Bernadetta kept walking in a straight line. All she needed to do was break through. Break free. 

A tree had made its way into her line of vision. She sidestepped it and kept going, fighting the fog with each step. “I’m going to do this. I’ll see you again, Hubert. And I’ll tell you how I really feel.”

She hoped this trip wouldn’t be in vain. She could see it being that way, but she no longer wanted to say here any longer and fade away with the Varley name. 

Another tree came into sight. And another identical to it. And another. _Are all trees the same?_

Bernadetta carved a mark with the tree to make sure they were different. She kept going. And when she hit the next tree...she was dismayed to find out it was the same exact one. 

She had, essentially, walked in circles for the past few hours. 

Bernadetta turned back and saw the fog was less dense. With a heavy sight she turned back and saw the gates of her house again. _Just how deep did this curse go? Why me? Why me?!_

With dismay, she walked through the gates and saw the fog had rapidly cleared…

And in the center of the entrance was none other than Hubert, ready to enter her home. 

“Hubert?” _This is it. Am I going insane? Has Bernie truly lost it?_

He turned around. Bernadetta did a double take. It _was_ him.

Bernadetta threw her basket aside and ran as fast as she could as Hubert strode in her direction. Her legs gave out when she was close enough to him, falling into his embrace. “Hubert! You’re here. You’re actually here!” She saw he kept wearing the flower he made for her. Her heart was now beating out of her chest. 

“I...I am…” She looked up at him, meeting watchful green eyes that searched hers. Eyes she always tried so hard to avoid. She couldn’t anymore. She wanted to see them and be in his line of vision. She was no longer afraid. He took the hood off her cloak, his hand caressing one of her flowers. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” His line of vision fell on the embroidered flower she made, his smile widening. Bernadetta returned his smile. She felt beautiful, powerful like this. 

“I can’t stop either. I love you, Hubert,’ she said, blurting it out. She didn’t care that it was impossible to leave. He needed to know how she felt, even though it came out in a hurry.

He got closer to her, laughing, his arms around hers even tighter. She felt embarrassed for having said it. “To think, I had rehearsed a long preamble, but you’re to the point as ever, Bernadetta. I... love you, too. In fact…” Bursting with sheer elation, Bernadetta couldn’t hold back, getting on her tiptoes to kiss him straight on the lips. He lowered and met her halfway, kissing her back. He was softer than she could have ever anticipated, his lips warm to the touch. Bernadetta stroked his hair as she leaned into him.

Bernadetta wanted nothing more than to hold him, to wrap her vines around him and…

_Wait...where’s my vines?_

“What’s…” When she pulled away, there was a bright light cascading around her. Her vines were no longer vines, but now actual arms and hair and her fingers weren’t leafy, but actual, human fingers. Her skin changed from green to a pink-tinged porcelain shade. 

When the light dissolved around her, she saw her home behind them had changed. It was now like before. It was the home she now remembered. She saw even her father’s room was back to normal again.

“I…The curse…”

Hubert was speechless, his face slack in shock. It was a state she had never seen him in. “Berna…My, my, it appears I’m at a loss for words. You’re...You’re quite beautiful. That isn’t to say you weren’t...I’m dreadful at this...”

Her hair was much longer than what she was used to, yet the flowers remained. One had fallen. “I’m...Bernie’s a human again!”

She embraced him again, finding his lips once more. Kissing him as a regular girl, just as she had dreamed. In front of the sun and in this beautiful day and in this beautiful moment. 

“I forgot my preamble, but Bernadetta, I wish to marry you. Please, allow me to do you the honor.”

Marriage?! “But...you said…”

“I've already spoken to Her Majesty about this. She told me to follow my heart. So, you could say that we have her blessing. In fact, she wishes to meet you.”

“I...yes! I’ll marry you, Hubert.” She found his hands, his fingers over hers. Her vision blurred as her tears, the tears her plant body wouldn’t let her cry, streamed down her face.

“Good,” he said, awkwardly, wiping her tears away. “When I’m with you...I feel...happy. I’m afraid I’m at a loss for words yet again.” He kissed her. Again and again and again as if he were afraid she would disappear. She admitted she felt the same way.

“Hubert,” she said after. “Let’s go home,” he began to walk inside. He was misinterpreting her.

“No. I don’t want to go back. At least, not now, anyway. Take me to the capital. To Enbarr. Show me the sights and sounds and everything! I want to see everything I’ve missed out. And I want to meet Edelgard. Oh! And I can show you my cooking skills with the proper ingredients!”

Hubert smiled. Bernadetta thought he too, looked beautiful in this state as well. “Very well, then. Let’s go home.” He grabbed her hand and picked up her basket, walking away and leaving this memory of what was once decay and destruction. They left into the world, intent on making new memories together.

**Author's Note:**

> And then they defeated the slitherers/got revenge on Cornelia and lived happily ever after. Oh, and one more thing, I was in part, inspired by a scene in one of my favorite Hubernie fics, Cyrano de Huberac. The scene in question is hilariously NSFW while this story isn't, but thank you idanato for even the idea of plant monster!Bernie.
> 
> I promise none of my other Hubernie week submissions will be this long! Please feel free leave a comment!


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